Embraces are new to him, a foreign entity that he’s heard of…seen from afar even, but never something he had ever had the privilege of being privy to. His childhood hadn’t been one of love and reassurance with gentle caresses and kind words. It had been an indifferent raising, callous at times but not ill intended. He is relieved when his return gesture is met with a smile instead of a grimace, and relaxes a bit as she settles near him, sharing the warmth his body put off, melding it with her own until the space immediate to them was quite comfortable, despite the claws of winter all around them.
She comments on his name, mirroring his thoughts and he thinks it odd for a moment how well named some seem to be. He remembers overhearing two expectant mares having a conversation about how names shape the destiny of a child. He’d thought it fascinating, and wholly illogical all at the same time, but as the years pass and his experience of the world broadens, he cannot help but wonder if there isn’t a smidgeon of truth to that old wives’ tale. He returns her smile, a gentle upturning of dark lips that would be so easy to miss if you weren’t really looking, the gesture is a quiet one, more visible in the softness that comes to his eye than on the expression on his face.
The conversation takes a more somber turn, his yearning ache for his homeland unleashed by a quiet comment about the newly changed skyline. The ache is eased at the sharpness of her complete surprise, another hint of a smile ghosting across his features at the honesty of it. He found he was quite enjoying the simplicity and rawness of their exchange. There didn’t seem to be any smoke and mirrors in this moment, just two beings drawn together from the cold. It felt good, and it provided a dam for that churning sense of loss that plagued him. ”I was born there, and spent my childhood exploring every nook it had to offer.” he confirms, leaning gently into the caress she brushes against his shoulder. He was finding there was great comfort in those simple gestures, something he’d never known he’d missed out on. ”Were you born there? Or did you migrate?” he asks, suddenly curious to find how she’d come to this moment.
He studies her as she studies him, drinking in her features, trying hard to place her face with a particular memory, but he draws only blanks. He’d never met her before, and this does not surprise him. He’d been young when he’d left, still clinging to the stubborn remnants of boyhood. He confesses how the strange new landscape effects him, and his gaze falls back to her scarlet features as she concedes that everything is indeed different before running a gentle touch down the dark length of his wings. There is a brief desire to open the appendage, to shield her from the gently falling snow, and offer her more of his heat, but he does not want to ruin the moment with an act of chivalry he isn’t sure will be well received. He hums in quiet agreement that the closer he looks the more things are similar, and an ear flicks in her direction as she sighs, his attention wholeheartedly shifting back to the here and now with the death of that sigh. She tells him how many of the Kingdoms had merged and claimed new lands, and he wonders if he should not go to the Tephra, and try to make it home. Those thoughts are cut short at what she says next, the words hanging in the air, fragile as the flakes of snow still steadily raining down. He frowns, understanding in his own way, exactly what she means, and yet unable to take the sting away, though he wants to. The most he can do is breathe a gentle warmed breath against her neck, disturbing the dark tangled locks with a feather soft touch. ”I’m sorry, he tells her quietly ”we can only hope the rebirth is worth the demise.”
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